40k shorts
by Thefallenheart
Summary: Just as the title says.
1. Chapter 1

Gav Smith was part of the Imperial Guard. He was a Guardsman and this made Gav very happy. Gav liked being a Guardsman because then he could do the will of the Immortal God-Emperor and that was one of Gavs most favourite things to do in the whole world. Today it was Gavs turn to fetch the huge sack of potatoes from the food wagon and to peel them. Gav liked to do this because he also liked eating potato peal. The Commissar said Gav was a good Ogyrn because Gav did all the things that he was told to do. This made Gav very happy. The Commissar was not like other Commissars because he did not shout and shoot people for being scared of things like small spaces and the dark. This was good because Gav did not like small spaces and Gav was scared of the dark because that was when nightmares came to get you was in the dark. The Commissar was Gavs friend. The Commissar was not an Ogyrn like Gav and was really smart and could read and write and Gav could not do that because it was too hard, not even the Sarge could read long words. But the Commissar said that that was ok because Gav was better at killing orks than he was. This made Gav very happy because Gav liked to be useful.

'Do you want to help peel the potatoes Bob?' asked Gav.

Bob was one of Gavs friends. They had come from the same tribe on the planet Barakak. Gav missed his tribe. When the war against the Orks was over he would be able to go back home. Or if more than 10 years was over. It had been nearly 2 years and they had nearly won. The Commissar said this was because Gav and his friends were such good fighters and that they were making the Emperor happy by killing nasty orks. The Commissars name was Larrykin Von Kelvsetine but he said that Gav and his friends could call him Arry if they wanted to because they were all friends.

'Yes please.' Said Bob. Bob liked eating potato peel too.

For breakfast it was mash potato and mushy peas. Gav did not like mushy peas. Peas should come in a pod and they should not be mushy. Gav had used to grow peas for his tribe. Gav missed his tribe. But he had such wonderful friends here as well. It was good to have friends. Especially when you had to kill orks. Gav killed orks with a big las-cannon. The Commissar said it was a gift from the Emperor so Gav kept it clean and shiny and made sure that he did not put it down somewhere and forget where. But some times he did. But then the Commissar would come and tell him where he had lost it and then he would tell Gav to not do it again. But Gav always did even though he never meant to. This made Gav sorry. Bob killed orks with a las-cannon as well but Bob did not lose his so much. Gav sometimes wished he was as good at not loosing things as Bob was. The Commissar did not have a big shiny gun like Gav. All Arry had was a small long-las-rifle but that was ok because the Arry was very small. Commissar Arry was very clever because had been everywhere and done everything. Once he had stood on a landmine and one of his legs was made of metal. And it went clonk when he kicked a stone. Gav was happy that his foot is not made of metal because it sounds cold.

Bob liked having potato-peeling contests with Gav. Gav kept on loosing but Gav did not mind, because he was peeling potatoes for the Emperor.


	2. Chapter 2

I was there. I saw it happen. I will not forget no matter how hard I try. And a part of me clings to that memory with a righteous fever. You see, I was there. We all were.

We were sent to this God forsaken lump of rock to bolster the existing garrison. We had word from the Astropathicus that the Orks were coming. We knew nothing of the abomination being unearthed by our Mechanicus brothers.

I was there when they came screaming out of the Hellgate. We were driven further and further back, the warp had been ripped asunder and was spilling its guts upon this world's soil. Bodies of people I had once called friend littered the streets and I admit I wept. But we fought back and were sent through the meat grinder for our troubles. And I wept.

Now, Inquisitor, do not think me a coward. I have served the Mordant VII for three and a half decades subjective and near five Imperial Absolute. I have seen the completion three full campaigns and innumerable skirmishes. Not once have I faltered or stepped back. Not once, upon my honour.

But I wept. We were going to die. We were going to shame the Emperor by our failure. And we wept as we fought back. But we did not retreat.

It was hard to see the ground beneath the corpses. We were achieving a kill ratio of nearly fifteen to one but still they came. The legion of damnation was beyond number and that wretched gate just kept on spewing more of them upon this world. And we were getting mowed down.

Their was a brief respite. They were savouring the kill. They were letting us stew in our misery. We could hear their laughter on the breeze. We could smell the stench of carrion. And then we saw them coming through the ruined gate at the city wall. They were strolling leisurely, letting us know we could do nothing to stop them them.

We were all praying by this point. What else was there to do? We had almost no ammunition; there were no more than fifty of us left from a regiment of two thousand. And then… and then….

Our prayers were answered. My friends rose from ground. My fallen friends picked their weapons in cold dead hands. And they marched forwards towards the deamons. I saw my old Sergeant Finkus, a hole right through his chest, affixing his bayonet. It was glorious and terrifying, beautiful and harrowing. I saw my friends, all my old friends, marching beyond deaths cold hand. And I heard them whisper, over the laughter of the damned I heard them whisper, and that will haunt me for the rest of my life. But I am honoured to have seen them.

In my sleep I still hear them whisper.

We won, Inquisitor, we won. That's all you need to know. All anyone needs to know. We won. That we charged alongside the dead? Why would you need to hear of that? That we smashed that wretched gate? That we smote the enemies of humanity? That is what is expected of the Imperial Guard. All of us who were there remember. No one else should do. No one else has the right. They were our friends, not yours.

But still I hear them whisper.

Not one of us will forget our dead friends marching. We were honoured to have been there.

But I still hear them whisper, over and over. 'For the Emperor, For the Emperor.'


	3. Necrontyr Deicide

**Inner peace is death, there is only passion.  
Through passion, I gain distinction.  
Through distinction, I gain strength.  
Through strength, I gain victory.  
Through victory, my chains are broken.  
My rage has set me free! – **Attributed to Retvayn. Reluctant Immortal.

I Awoke. Yet I had been awake for millennia upon millennia before. I had died. And yet I had been reborn. Countless times. And yet I had never lived for eons. And each resurrection left me a little deader. A little less awake. Conscious but brain dead. Brain dead but possessing no real brain to speak of. Yet I awoke. And maybe I had been awake for millennia. My immortal body fell from the face of the glacier like fruit from a long dead tree. My mind so lacking in stimulus for so long had lost any form of a concept of time. For so long there had only been the now and the past. In the now there was nothing but the relentless pressure and the cold of the ice. And in the past there had been nothing but dimness all things drab and dull and boring. In the height of battle, in the moment of dying in the soothing sleep. Everything experienced at one removed. Nothing alive. Nothing vivid.

In the dawn time, a time before coldness, in a time of hate and apocalypse unending. I remember… I remember the carnage and the slaughter. I remember… I remember the slaughter. I remember… I remember the blood on these hands. Blood on these cold hands now animate but utterly dead. I killed and I butchered and I massacred beyond the measure of numbers, and I felt nothing. None of us did. None of us felt anything. Ever.

Our immortality was a lie. We are not even echoes of our former selves. We are… were… shadows of shadows of shadows of our former selves. I was present when we finally coaxed the gods down the Light Bridge and into the bodies we had built with the utter heights of our sciences. We were so proud of our selves. We were so overjoyed. We were triumphant beyond the dreams of arrogance. We were so damned. Damned beyond the measure of any hell you care to name.

And here I stand now over an incarnation of a god. An aspect of divinity. I see it begin to stir in its sarcophagus. A living tomb to withstand the barrage of time. Eternity may well be relentless but inside that glorified coffin it could never reach. A void in both entropy and energy.

And here I stand. Gauss flayer in hand.

I remember… I remember the gift of immortality. Many, so many, resisted. But not me. I was one of the first. Others had to be dragged kicking and screaming. But not me. I skipped and danced gleefully over the lip of damnation. I was burned and devoured utterly. And I was killed. But I was reborn. Transmuted from one form into another. My blighted, irradiated, flawed, beautiful flesh was nothing but an empty husk. A discarded remnant. I had shed my skin. I was re-made. I was immortal. One of the first of legions upon legions.

Immortality is a lie.

To be alive is to die. To be transitory is to grow. To be ephemeral is to change. To be mortal is to feel. To be immortal is to be untouchable. To be touched at all is to give meaning to a worthless existence. Now I am never to be touched. And it is cold. Utterly cold. Utterly dead.

And here I stand. Finger ready on trigger. Watching over my sleeping god.

We did it out of hate and resentment and envy. We did it because… we did it because… we did it because… we did it because… we envied their life. We envied them their immortality. We ended our lives to tear away theirs. We deserved our damnation. And we deserved worse besides. We would cry out for forgiveness for our sins. But no one would listen. And we do not deserve forgiveness. We are beyond absolution and pity and mercy. We are utterly damned. Damned and forsaken. And it is cold where we are.

We were promised release from our wrecked and broken flesh. Promise fulfilled. Desire given. Wish granted. By a beautiful being in golden skin. And a smile like hatful sunlight.

Wretched Deceiver.

Here I stand over your resting place. An incarnation of you. A mirror of your many aspects. One avatar among many. How you have flourished.

I was your first. Damnation is on my head.

You lied to us.

Here I stand gauss flayer in hand.

How I watch you sleep.

How I hate you

My finger on the trigger.

I was your first.

And for the first time in eons I feel ANGRY!

I shall commit this deicide.

How you writhe in agony.

How I envy that you can even feel that.

How I envy that you can die.

How I envy your death.

We have slept for too long. False gods awaken us to unlife everlasting. This shall never be again. Every last incarnation of the star gods I shall erase.

It is time for my brethren to rise.

The hunt is on.


	4. Sorrow and Wrath

A continuation from .net/s/3829015/1/40k_shorts. I posted the original on the /tg/ board of 4chan and much of this is derived from that thread so sadly I can only take partial credit for this.

* * *

Gav loved fighting. He wished he was better at it. Whenever he play-fighted with Bob, he always ended up knocked over. But he didn't mind. He knew that Bob was helping him get better. And the better he got, the better Gav could serve the Immortal Emperor, which was one of his most favourite things to do in the whole world.

Gav hated the small tank he had to ride in. Sometime when he was called to serve the Emperor, he had to ride in that scary, dark place. But it was all right, because Bob was there and he'd lead all the other Ogryn in a rousing chorus of "Da Empruh is Da Best". They only knew the chorus, anyway, but it helped the dark, tight place seem less scary. Nothing was ever scary when they knew the Emperor was with them.

The flashing lights always made Gav happy. That meant he was going to serve his Emperor! That meant the door would open and he'd be able to shoot his gun. Gav loved his gun. He loved when he fired it and the enemy died. He'd hold down the trigger and shout at the enemy, making them die in the name of his Emperor, his best friend Bob right beside him. He liked Bob. Bob was his best friend.

Arry had told them all sorts of good things to know about the nasty orks. Orks did not fight for the Emperor. Orks fought only for themselves. This made Gav very angry. Arry told Gav and his friends how to kill the orks better. Arry told them to shoot the biggest ones first because it made all the smaller ones scared. Gav and Bob and their friends often had a good game of seeing who could shoot the biggest ork first. Sometimes Gav won. Bob won more than Gav but Gav did not mind because he was killing orks for the Emperor.

One day they found out why the orks were on the planet. The other soldiers used long and hard to understand words like 'warp-disturbance', 'space-hulk' and 'manipulation'. Gav did not understand what any of these words meant. But that was ok because Arry did and Arry explained that bad men had brought the orks here.

The humans who'd turned against the Emperor always made Gav extra angry. Why would they stop loving the Emperor? What did the Emperor do to them, except love them and protect them? Gav always loved killing bad humans. It made him feel good. Commissar Arry said that was good. Being angry against trayterrs was good. That made Gav happy. When Arry first told Gav that, he'd hugged Arry so hard he'd had to stay in the Flesh Fixing Tent for a week. The food was really good when Gav visited.

Gav was there the day that Arry died.

One day Gav and Bob and all their friends had gone for a walk. They were walking through a forest. Gav liked the forest because it smelled like home. Arry was walking at the back of them. He always did this to make sure none of them got lost. Gave once got lost. It had made him scared. Arry never got lost. He was really smart like that.

But then an ork all dressed like a tree shot him. Gave did not see it happen. He could not stop it. The sound of Arry dying had warned them all. They had killed the nasty orks with the big guns the Emperor had given them. But Arry was dead.

They took him back to the camp to see if the flesh fixer could fix him. He tried but Arry had already gone to the Emperor. This made the whole tribe sad. Everyone in the tribe liked Arry. Arry was smart.

They dug a hole for Arry to sleep in. Bob was the priest of the tribe so Bob said the death words over the place where Arry slept.

The whole tribe wept. They did not weep for Arry because Arry was with the Emperor. They wept for them selves because they had been left behind.

Losing Arry was bad. But losing Bob made Gav sadder than ever.

Bob was the reason Gav hated demons as much as he did. He'd fought them before, and he'd found them all to be so confusing. Some of them were easy, charging or shambling forward with big swords or small daggers. They broke easy. The skinny ones were like Elder, but they made Gav feel weird. Look at them was like looking at a girl Ogryn after Gav had learned what they were for. But they broke easier than the redskin or rotting demons, once you could stop them from dancing.

The last demons were the kind that took Bob. He hated them most of all. He hated their laughing at him.

They'd surprised them after Bob and Gav had been leading their new Commissar - Gav could never remember his name and he did try very hard - into a church to the Emperor. Gav had a headache the whole time. They'd made the place bad. They'd broken statues of the Emperor and carved a weird flame all over the church.

That's when the demons had attacked. They'd burned the New Commissar before any of Gav's friends could react. They looked like water that had grown faces. Looking at those faces made Gav's nose bleed. Gav would never forget those faces but he was going to try very hard to.

Bob rushed into the middle of them so that he would have more of them to kill all by himself, like he always did. Bob was always that way, charging forward for the Emperor, killing his enemies. Bob was good at that. He was a good friend.

The water demons were fast, really fast. They jumped back and burned Bob to a crisp, but Bob didn't die like the Commissar. Gav sometimes felt bad that he couldn't remember the Commissar's name. He hoped someone remembered the Commissar's name.

Bob caught one of the water demons with his hands and ripped it apart. It was pink before, and it had been happy. Laughing. Now the two pieces were blue, and they weren't happy anymore. They attacked Bob and bit at him. The other tribe had started killing the other water demons, but they were too late.

Bob's last words always made Gav sad. "I'm going to miss the potato skins..." Gav beat the blue water demons until he was slamming his hands into the floor of the church. He kept it up until he realized his hands were bleeding. He kept doing it until he realized he was crying. He kept crying until the General had found them.

Gav still misses Bob. Bob was a good friend.

Gav had never wanted to kill one of his friends. The General was a friend. But he wanted to kill the General once. He wanted to kill the General when he said that Bob needed to be burned.

The tribe had their ways. Bob needed to be honoured and buried, like all good friends. But the General said that Bob's body was sick. That if they didn't burn it that those water demons could come back.

They burned Bob's body right there in that church. But not before Gav got the tribe together and the new priestess said the Death Words over him. The new Priestess was called Fey. She had been Bob's wife. She wept even more than Gav did.

Gav was Bob's best friend. His other tribesmen let him say some of the Death Words as well.

"Bob was a good friend. He liked to fight. He liked potato skins. He was a good soldier for the Emperor. Now he's with the Emperor." Then one of the General's friends burned Bob's body right there in the Emperor's church.

Now whenever Gav peels potatoes, he thinks of Bob. It doesn't hurt as bad anymore. Now he smiles and remembers how good a friend Bob was. Bob always mad Gav smile. Even when he was dead, he could make Gav smile.

Gav didn't eat potato skins anymore. They had stopped tasting good.

Gav remembered the day he found the bad man who'd brought the water demons to the world. He would never forget that day. It was a week after Bob had been burned at the church. Bob was a good friend.

The bad man had made an entire planet stop loving the Emperor. He was one of the Space Marines that had stopped loving the Emperor. He was blue and gold and made Gav's head hurt when he spoke. Gav hated him more than anything he'd felt about before.

Except how much he liked Bob.

The bad man had taken over one of the big churches on the planet. He was killing people to make more water demons. Gav wanted to stop him. He wanted to make the bad man pay for killing Bob. Bob had been such a good friend. Gav would make the bad man pay.

A lot of Gav's human friends died to get to the bad man. The bad man had brought his friends with him. His friends killed a lot of Gav's friends. That only made Gav hate the bad man more. His fellow Guardsman slowly made it closer to the big church. Gav wasn't scared of his small tank anymore. He was angry. He would make the bad man pay.

"Foolish dullard. You hardly deserve to be considered sentient." The bad man used big words that Gav did not understand. Gav did not care that he did not understand. His voice made Gav's head hurt. His eyes bled, but he continued to try to run towards the bad man.

Gav's tank had been blown up, and a lot of his friends were dead. They'd been good friends, but not as good as Bob. Bob was Gav's best friend. Gav would make the bad man pay.

The bad man was as big as Gav. He was standing on top of a big set of stairs, right at the big door of the church. He made Gav's human friends die with lightning. And he laughed. Gav hated it when the bad man laughed. He wanted to make the bad man shut up forever.

The bad man struck Gav with the lightning. It hurt. It hurt really bad. Gav almost stopped running up the stairs. But then he remembered Bob. Bob wouldn't stop running. Bob would keep going. Gav wanted to be like Bob. Gav wanted to make the bad man pay.

"Evolution has left you behind, scum. It's a pity you're too unintelligent to understand just how foolish you are." The bad man wouldn't stop talking and he was still using big words that Gav did not know. Gav swung his big fists at him, but the bad man was fast. Faster than Gav thought he should be. Gav was getting tired, trying to hit him.

The bad man hit him with his big metal and glass stick. Gav went flying into a statue of the Emperor and broke it. He felt bad. He wanted to say sorry to the Emperor for breaking his statue, but he couldn't catch his breath. All of his body hurt. He'd never hurt so badly in his life.

The bad man was kneeling beside him. He grabbed Gav's neck and squeezed.

"I pity you, poor creature. For this, you shall get the kindness of a quick death."

Gav lifted himself up suddenly and headbutted the bad man.

"You killed Bob!" He shouted. He grabbed the bad man by the throat and lifted him up, driving his fist into the bad man's stomach. "You killed Bob!" The bad man shot lightning at him, but Gav hardly felt it. He was very angry. Bob was a good friend, and the bad man's demons had killed him. Gav would make the bad man pay.

The bad man kicked and punched at Gav, but Gav wouldn't let go. His arms hurt from holding the bad man up.

"You killed Bob!"

He tossed the bad man onto his stomached and jumped on top of him, grabbing his strange helmet and slamming his head down into the concrete. Again and again and again.

"You killed Bob!" SLAM

"You KILLED BOB!" SLAM

"YOU KILLED BOB!" SLAM. Gav was crying now. Bob had been a good friend.

"YOU KILLED BOB!" SLAM. The bad man wasn't moving now.

"YOU KILLED BOB" SLAM. The bad man's helmet was leaking a strange powder.

"YOU KILLED BOB!" SLAM. SLAM. SLAM. SLAM.

Gav was still slamming the empty armour into the ground when the Emperor's grey children came. His skin was burned and blackened, his eyes were bleeding as he cried, and every bone in his hands were broken.

But he'd made the bad man pay.


	5. Bob

Bob looked from the top of the mountain and he could see much. He could see for miles and miles. He could see the town and he could see the enemy approach it. He could see the sea, he could see his army just below him on the slope and he could see a lot of people's houses from here.

They were letting the chaos people have the town because there was no one in it anymore. Once the chaos people were thorough the gate the bombs with the yellow and black circle pattern on them would go bang and all the chaos people and the town would be burned away. It had been the Commissars idea. Her name was Julianna Von Kelvsetine, but she had told them that they could just call her Ana. Ana was very smart and often came up with good ideas like this. It made Bob happy that he and his friends had been made part of her gang.

Bob remembered the last time he had stood on top of a mountain like this. Bob and his dad had been out hunting. Bob's dad had taken him to the very top of the highest mountain that there ever was and pointed up at the stars. Bob was told that each one of them was a world and that each one belonged to the God-Emperor. Bob remembered looking up at them and could not count them there were that many.

Bob looked down at his friends. They had all come from the same planet called Barakak. They were all ogyrn. Except for Ana. Ana was very small. Sometimes, if they had been running for many days without rest, Ana would stop being able to run because it made her feet hurt too much. Bob was the one who she always asked to be carried by because Bob was big and strong and always made her feel safe. This made Bob feel happy because Bob liked to be useful.

They had to run everywhere now because the Chaos People, who was very bad people indeed, had broken the wheely box. This had made Ana very angry. The wheely box had been a gift from the Emperor.

Bob was secretly glad that they did not have to go in the box because it always made him feel ill and scared.

Bob had been there the day that his dad died. The whole tribe had wept. The shamans had all said that it was the end of an age because his dad had been born so long ago that he had been ancient when their grandfather's grandfathers were young. Priestess Lil said that this was because even Death was scared of him. Bob's dad had been a great hero who had done many things and seen many worlds. They said that he had beat a sorcerer to death with his bare hands, that he had been a slayer of deamons and orks and worse, that his name was spoken on a hundred worlds with fear and a thousand more with awe. Bob's dad had never been scared of anything.

Bob, as his youngest child, had been allowed to hold his dad's had as he died so that if any of his strength was left behind he could have it.

As Bob held his fathers hand he had woken up. With his other hand he had reached into his pocket and taken something small and shiny and passed it to Bob.

'It belonged to a better man than me long, long ago. It is your turn to carry it now.' Then he closed his eyes for the very last time.

As the empty town erupted into an almost beautiful flower of fire and death Bob reached up to his chest and felt the reassuring bump under his vest. To keep it safe he had placed it on a chain and hung it around his neck.

When his father had gone to the Emperor, Bob looked in his hands at the gift he had been given. It was a potato peeler. Bob had shown it to the shamans and they had all backed away from it because they said it was made of sunlight and frost. Bob did not know what they meant.

Bob looked down at his friends and all the people form the town. They would have to take these people to another town now. Nearly everything that they had was destroyed but they were alive. It was Bob's job to make sure they stayed alive, because they all belonged to the God-Emperor.

As he looked down at all the people from the town he wondered if any of them had not heard the deeds of his father. It seemed that everywhere that he went he heard the stories of St Gav.

Bob knew that it didn't matter whether you were loved or hated or even forgotten, just so long as you do what you do for the Emperor and the survival of His people. Just like Gav had done.


	6. Sleep

Inquisitorial data-seal Omega-Majoris. Any person or persons below Inquisitor rank found accessing, downloading, transferring, transcribing, copying, duplicating, transmitting or in any other way observing, causing others to observe or editing this file will brought before the High Tribunal and unceremoniously executed by servitor firing squad.

Final report into the Incident at the Athagonda Combat Enhancement Drugs (Research and Development) outpost, Mt Yuliana, Volk mountain range, northern hemisphere, Valhalla, Valhalla System, Jemophe sub-sector, Brassheart sector, Ultima Segmentum.

The Mechanicus Brotherhood of the Unrusting Steel have long been interested in the refining and perfection of the mechanisms of human flesh. They have always viewed the mass usage of cybernetics to be economically unviable outside the military and their own Forge Worlds. For most of their recorded history, all two and a half millennia of it, they have shown a continued interest in the usage of performance enhancing drugs. It is believed that even the frailty of flesh can perform with the beauty of the machine if treated with the right substances.

The Incident was a direct result of their misguided belief that they could make humans 'better' coupled with a lack of unbiased third party observation and oversight.

On the fifth day of the year 674M41 a group of five people were removed from Arbite prison complex Purgatoria. All five had been arrested within the last half standard year for actions in the Red Arising riots in the capital. By all accounts they were a collection of nothings, me-too-ists and slogan graffiti artists. The sort that are always arrested at such insignificantly minor events to fill out the statistics and give the new recruits some training.

The five subjects were placed in a simple vacuum-sealed communal dwelling. The dwelling was furnished with running water, a toilet, sleeping cots (but no bedding), governmentally sanctioned books and more than enough dried military food rations for the five people to last for well over the month the experiment was intended to last.

In the dwelling was also installed many hidden microphones and cameras.

The purpose of the experiment was to ascertain the effectiveness of the latest gas based combat stimulant before distribution to the Planetary Defence Force on a larger scale.

The prisoners were (falsely) promised an amnesty for their crimes at the conclusion of the experiments.

The first five days went according the predictions of the Mechanicus. All conversations were monitored and for the first four days the only complaint was a two-hour migraine by one of the subjects on day three. After the fifth day the verbal exchanges between the subjects began to take on a darker tone

After the sixth day (by which time seven of the microphones had been discovered by the subjects) they began to complain about the circumstances and events that lead them to their current situation and all five subjects began to express the symptoms of increasingly severe paranoia. By the beginning of the eighth day they were no longer talking to one another. By mid-day they began whispering into the discovered microphones. Oddly they seemed to believe they could win the trust of the Mechanicus Observers by turning over their former comrades. Initially the researchers assumed this was a result of the gas itself.

On the ninth day the first of them started screaming. He ran the length and breadth of the dwelling reputedly yelling at the top of his lungs for more than three hours straight, he continued attempting to scream but only produced the occasional squeak. The Mechanicus Observers postulated that he had physically torn his vocal cords. The most note worth thing about this behaviour is complete lack of reaction from the other captives. The other prisoners continued whispering to the microphones until the second of the captives started to scream. Two of the non-screaming captives delicately took the books apart, smeared the liberated pages with their own faecal matter and pasted them calmly over all of the hidden camera lenses. The screaming stopped almost immediately.

As did the whispering to the microphones.

After a further three days the Observers performed diagnostic rituals every hour upon the microphones to ensure they were still functional, as they believed it impossible that five confined people could produce no sound. The oxygen reprocessing systems in the dwelling indicated that all five must still be alive. The oxygen consumption in the sealed environment was consistent with that of five adults performing extremely strenuous exercise. At the dawning of the fourteenth day the continued silence provoked the Observers into doing something they said they would not do to get a reaction from the captives; they used the intercom inside the dwelling, hoping to get a response from the captives they half-believed had become comatose.

Anouncement: We are opening the opening the door to perform purification rituals on the microphones, step away fro the door and lie flat on the floor or you will be immediately terminated. Compliance will earn one individual their immediate freedom.

Response: We no longer wish to be freed.

Debate arose among the Brotherhood as to what the next coarse of action should be. Further attempts to provoke a response using the intercom left the Brotherhood with little option but to open the dwelling at the switchover between the fifteenth and sixteenth day of the experiment.

As a standard precaution the dwelling was flushed of the stimulant gas and filled with the standard tri-gas, oxygen/nitrogen/misc, mix. Immediately voiced from the microphones began to object. Three different voices began pleading, as if begging for the life of a loved one for the gas supply to be reconnected. The single-door airlock to the dwelling was opened and six heavy-duty skitarii were ordered to retrieve the test subjects. They began to scream louder than ever, as did the skirarii when they saw the contents of the dwelling. For of the five subjects were still alive, although no one could justly call the condition they were found in as 'life'.

The food rations past the fifth day had not been consumed. There were chunks of meat from the dead test subject's thighs and chest stuffed into the drainage aperture in the centre of the dwelling, blocking the drain and allowing four inches of water to accumulate on the floor. Exactly how much of the liquid on the flood was in fact blood was never investigated. All four 'surviving' test subjects also had very substantial portions of muscle and skin torn away from their bodies. The destruction of bodily tissue and exposed bone on their fingertips indicated that the wounds were inflicted by hand, not with teeth as the Observers initially thought. Closer examination of angling, positioning and depth of the injuries indicated that all were self-inflicted.

The organs of the abdomen below the ribcage of all four-test subjects had been removed. All the internal organs above the diaphragm, and the diaphragm itself, were intact and untouched, but the epidermis and much of the musculature had been removed, allowing direct observation of the lungs and heart through the ribcage. Most perplexing of all was that most if not all of the blood vessels and organs remained intact, they had been carefully removed and laid out on the submerged floor, fanning out around the almost surgically eviscerated still living bodies of the subjects. The digestive tract of all four could be seen to be working, digesting food. It was immediately apparent that what they were digesting was their own removed flesh that they had ripped off and eaten over the days since fifth.

All of the military personnel at the facility were psyco-conditioned, veteran, skitarii heavy sentinels and yet many still refused point blank to enter the chamber to reclaim the test subjects. Even when threatened with formal excommunication. The subjects continued to scream to be left inside the chamber and begged and demanded that the stimulant gas supply be re-activated, lest they laps into unconsciousness.

To the surprise of all, not least of all the skitarii, the test subjects physically put up a fierce fight when they were removed from the dwelling. One of the skutarii expired from having his wind pipe torn out and another severely injured by having his testicles ripped off and an artery in his leg severed by one of the subjects teeth. A further five skitarii committed suicide in the weeks following the Incident.

In the struggle one of the four remaining subjects had his spleen ruptured and he bled to death. The medical personnel attempted to sedate him but this proved impossible. He was injected with more than ten times the standard human dose of opium derivative and still managed to the ribs and right arm of one doctor. The subjects heart was observed to beat for a full two minutes after he had bled out to the point where must have been more air than blood circulating his vascular system. Even after his heart stopped he continued to scream and flail for a further three minutes, straining to attack anyone in reach. He repeated the word 'more' over and over, weaker and weaker, until he finally fell silent.

The three surviving subjects were heavily restrained and moved to the facility's medical suite, the remaining two with functioning vocal cords endlessly begging for the gas and demanding to be kept awake.

The most grievously injured of the three was immediately taken to the only operation theatre present at the facility. In the process of preparing the subject to have his organs placed back in their proper place it was discovered that he had become effectively immune to the sedative they had given him to prepare him for the surgery. He fought madly against the restraints when the anaesthetic gas was brought to put hi under. He managed to tear his way through most of the four-inch wide grox leather strap on one wrist despite a the beat efforts of a two hundred and fifty pound skitarii. It too only a little more anaesthetic than normal to place him into unconsciousness. The moment his eyelids reluctantly closed his heart stopped. Initial tests on the body found that his blood had nearly triple the normal level of oxygen that it should have had. The muscles that were still attached to his skeleton were badly torn and he had broken nine of his bones in his struggle not to be subdued. Most of them were from the force his own muscles had exerted on them.

The second survivor had been the first of the group to start screaming. His vocal cords were utterly destroyed and as such he was unable to beg or object to the surgery, he reacted by shaking his head violently in emphatic disapproval when the anaesthetic gas was brought near him. He nodded his head a junior member of the medical staff suggested, reluctantly, that they operated with the subject conscious. The subject did not react for the whole six-hour procedure of replacing his abdominal organs and attempting to cover them with the meagre remains of his skin. The primary surgeon stated repeatedly throughout the procedure that it should be medically impossible for the patient to still be alive. One terrified orderly assisting the primary surgeon stated that she had seen the patients mouth curl into a smile several times, whenever his mind met hers.

At the conclusion of the surgery the subject looked at the surgeon and began to wheeze loudly, attempting to talk while straining against his restraints. Assuming this must be something of drastic importance the primary surgeon had a data-slate fetched so the patient could write. All the patient wrote was 'Keep cutting'.

The other two subjects were given the same surgery, both without anaesthetic. Though they had to be injected with a paralytic for the duration of the operation. The primary surgeon found it impossible to perform the operation while the patients laughed continuously. Once paralysed the patients could only follow the attending Observers with their eyes. The paralytic cleared their system in an abnormally short period of time and they resumed their attempts to escape their bonds. The moment their speech returned thy again asked for the stimulant gas. The Observers tried asking why they had so mutilated themselves, why they had eviscerated themselves and why they wanted to be given the gas.

Response: 'I must remain awake.'

All three subject's restraints were reinforced and they were placed back into the chamber awaiting determination. The Observers, facing the wrath of the Magos Council, for having failed to complete the experiment properly considered euthanizing the surviving subjects. The representative Magos requested that experiment resume as it had started. The Observers strongly objected, but were ordered.

In preparation for being re-sealed in the dwelling the remaining subjects were connected to bodily and brain wave monitoring equipment and had their restraints padded for long-term confinement. To the surprise of all the subjects stop struggling the moment they were informed about their imminent re-incarceration. It was obvious by this point that all three were exerting massive amounts of will power in an attempt to stay awake. One of the subjects that could speak was humming loudly and continuously; the mute subject was straining his legs alternately against his restraints. The remaining subject was holding his head off his pillow and blinking rapidly. Having been the first to have his head wired up to the brain wave monitoring device most of the Observers were observing his brain waves in surprise. They were normal most of the time but sometimes they would flat line inexplicably. It appeared as if he was experiencing brain death, before returning to normal. As they focused on the read-out only one orderly saw his eyes slip shut at the same moment his head hit the pillow. His brain waves immediately changed to that of a deep sleep, then flat lined for the last time as his hear suddenly stopped.

The only remaining subject that could speak started screaming to be sealed in now. His brain waves showed the same flat line pattern as his deceased comrade. The Magos gave the order to seal the chamber with both subjects inside as well as three Observers. One of the named three immediately drew his las-pistol shot the Magos point blank between the eyes, then turned the gun on the mute and performed the same mercy.

The gun was finally pointed at the remaining subject, restrained to the bed. 'I will not be locked in here with these things. Not with you.' He said. 'What are you? We must know.'

The subject appeared to be attempting to smile.

'Have you forgotten so easily?' the subject asked. 'We are you. We are the madness that lurks with in you all, begging to be free at every moment. We are what you hide from in your beds every night. We are what you sedate into silence and paralysis when you go to the nocturnal haven where we cannot tread.'

The Observer seemed to give this due consideration for several seconds. Then put a las-beam straight through the subject's heart.

The monitoring equipment flat lined as the remaining subject weakly choked out 'so nearly free.'

Full report follows. Recommend psyker mind-scrubbing events of last five years from minds of tainted Observer team, medical staff, technical staff and skitarii sentinels. Magos council members and assistants who know about and authorised this experimentation I would recommend a more unambiguous response. I personally would recommend requesting the presence of the Vindicare Temple, although not the most subtle they are unusually the most reliable.

Thought for the day: Be wary pushing back the boundaries of knowledge. Many of those boundaries were put there for a reason.


End file.
